


Every Damn Morning

by Kaamos (reckless_love)



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, No Smut, Vignette, angsty in the beginning but not really, it should be somehow funny, melkor POV, tactile brain orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 09:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18657346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reckless_love/pseuds/Kaamos
Summary: he feels overcome with a feeling of impending doom





	Every Damn Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if this will make sense to you...  
> You know, I'm obsessed with their intimacy.
> 
> Mature rating not for smut but for a brain orgasm.
> 
> A special thanks to my dear friend J♡.

It’s a cruel quirk of nature to feel very distant from reality.

As if dissociated from the existence, he feels overcome with a feeling of impending doom, and still very hazy. It is a sort of feels like being smothered, accompanied with the sense that the heart is going to stop.

Does his heart rate slow?

Bare with him there, it starts with small twitches of the left arm. It then subtly involves the entire body, making him feel like he is falling upon waking. He feels the sensation of his legs, from the knees down, as if sliding on a hard surface.

Melkor tenses, all his muscles tense altogether causing him to gasp for air. Again, that sense of choking or, rather, feel of pressure: a lack of blood flowing into his body. He feels an overpowering need to scream, but he can’t. It is like a transition, feeling unable to move or speak for a few seconds. And still, it seems hours.

He thinks of being conscious. Or he should be, at that point.

He tries to grab the sheets under him but his hand doesn’t answer the impulse. It takes a while for the ancient part of the brain to kick back into gear to perform basic cognitive tasks. He tries once again, as he needs a gradual increase in the cerebral blood flow to normal levels. Fingers start to answer.

It then is the turn of the prefrontal cortex to re-establish the normal flowing of consciousness going on as normal. Basically, going from a state of forgetting who-what-when he is to re-join his personality and sense of being. Melkor slowly tries to open the eyes getting that groggy and dizzy feeling and with each breath it’s going to be worse, too. He decides to risk opening his eyes again and finds his vision to be blurry but catches his bedside table.

Somewhere at the back of his mind reality stirs, when _it_ suddenly strikes him: it is just like a head rush. The sensation extends down the back and limbs, relaxing and mellow. He gets a tactile brain-orgasm, _that_ delicious tingly sensation that travels from his brain to his spine when Mairon’s hair tumbles across his back.

It feels like sparkles or little fireworks going off. They reverberate out to his legs and back for a minute or so, several moments where he can’t do anything except just experience them.  
The strongest one shakes him with very deep and momentous earthquake of tension that sends waves of ecstasy to every part of his body and, in the end, gives the feeling of being exhausted, pleasantly tired, satisfied almost empty.

Melting into a ball of relaxed limbs he finds the strength to speak, eventually:

“What’s wrong with your side?”.

Mairon’s cheek is pillowed against his back and the scattering of red hair tickles his skin.

 “Mmmm”, Mairon hums so deeply that it is felt to Melkor as if Tevildo’s purr vibrating against him. “Nothing”, he then replies, his voice soft and almost unconscious.

“You just can’t end up like this every damn morning”.

“Why not?”, Mairon responds stretching one long leg and placing it squarely in between his, Melkor feeling the effect of it shaking a little under his movements.

“I thought I was having a stroke”.

“Oh,”, Mairon replies while his lips kiss fondly his spine with one soft luscious peck, “highly overdramatic as usual”, Melkor’s body responds unbidden to the feel of him on his flesh.

“Your back is so warm”, Mairon concludes while pressing and snuggling against him more cosily.

Perhaps it is Mairon’s body that has the power to transmute and clear and make him love any negative perturbation that came up. A smile softens Melkor’s lips.

First, a flood of multiple ‘mmmrrooowwws’ from the floor and, then, the light jump up on their alcove announce His Majesty Tevildo while he pounces on the bed. Mairon laughs softly and it vibers on Melkor’s skin as his hand pats his back twice. Tevildo welcomes the proposal and climbs Melkor’s back. He supposedly lands right on Mairon’s body.

“Now all the places are taken”, Melkor grumbles as if he were the cosmic great pillar that supports all the worlds and all life.

“Let us sleep”, Mairon complains from the top as being offended, turning the head to rest the other cheek on his back, his hair tantalising again his nakedness.

It causes chills to pebble on his skin when Mairon’s fingers gently stroke up his left forearm until he tenderly takes his hand and intertwines his fingers with his. He tightly squeezes it and the sight of it completes the pleasure of it all.

It is not long before Melkor’s breathing becomes deep and steady as he drifts off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Was it funny somehow?
> 
> ♡thank you for reading♡


End file.
